


Seven Valentines Days

by Blue_hare



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Lingerie, M/M, Valentine's Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22757203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_hare/pseuds/Blue_hare
Summary: Day 2 Prompt Fic- Lace and lingerie - model AU
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DAY 1 Love confession -   
> Short fic, a bit dumb I think/feel but, oh well, hope it's enjoyable nonetheless. :)

. 

. 

. 

They are in an office, large, ornate, nearly the entire surface of the desk covered with stacks of paper. They don't talk except to double check some numerical figure. 

How many horses, injured? How many dead? 

How many wagons lost? 

Hom many injured? Dead? 

Each answer is matter of fact, there’s no room for such things like sadness. Or regret. 

This is their job, their duty. No. 

It is _his._

It’s that thought which has him momentarily stop and look across to where he sits. 

_A silent partner._

He’s sometimes called him that in his mind. 

“You may retire, Captain. There isn’t much to finish and you need your rest.” 

He sees him look up from the document in hand and raise one thin eyebrow at him. 

“What? Have you forgotten my name already?” 

He startles, the reply unexpected. 

“Of course not.” 

“Hmm.” he’s glancing back down at the paper, clicking his tongue and setting it aside. The chair scrapes against the floor and he gets up and leaves the office without a word or look in his direction. 

It really shouldn't sting as much as it does, if at all. 

He shakes his head, leaning back, the hard backrest applying a satisfying pressure on the straight line of his shoulders. As much as Levi’s silent dismissal stings, he’s glad he didn't put up some sort of resistance as he’s done in the past. He sighs, stretching his arms and then running his hand through his hair before returning to his unfinished documents. Tomorrow he is to meet with the Council of Nobles. 

He’s just started on the last of the reports when the door to his office opens. He looks up, surprised (the monotony of paperwork dulling his senses). 

“Wh---?” 

“Some tea ought to wake that shitty old man brain of yours, Commander.” he says, voice flat, no teasing? 

“Oh. Thank you.” he scrambles to open up a place among the landscape of paper for him to place the tray down. 

He looks up again and catches silver eyes, dark in the shadows and darkness of his office, looking at him and immediately looks away, busying with pouring tea into two mugs. The silver metal ones that he’s come to recognize as _theirs._

The tea scalds his throat when he drinks it much too fast. He hears Levi call him an idiot and does not deny it. The chair scrapes again as he takes his seat. 

“So not much left is there?” 

He nods back unable to speak for a reason he has yet to understand (or want to). 

He returns to the report as Levi begins organizing the documents. The thud of tea and rusling paper and scratching quills familiar in the late night, early morning. There’s something new however. 

A prickling feeling. 

He tries to ignore it but it’s persistent. 

He looks up just as Levi looks away. 

He thinks he must be imagining everything. The product of a fatigued and weary mind so he does not say anything except he catches Levi twice more. 

“Is something the matter?” 

He must have startled Levi for the rustling of paper ceases and then pick up again. 

“Should there be?” 

Erwin looks up, unsure how to interpret Levi’s tone. 

“You’re staring.” 

Levi, looks away muttering, “Tch” and then, upon the shell of his ear, Erwins spots some color. But of course that must be a trick of the candle light. 

He drops it and returns to the report. The atmosphere shifts then, it’s unsettling, he ventures to think that it’s even awkward. He tries to ignore the remainder of his Captains stares. 

They are finishing up organizing when Levi speaks up. 

“I’ve never seen you like that.” 

“Pardon,” he looks up from revising the Nobles report, “Like what?” 

“You’re always so put together,” he says in a passive, casual tone. “It’s… strange seeing your hair out of its usual stiff look.” 

Erwin inhales loudly, he’d forgotten he ran his hand through his hair earlier.In the back of his mind there’s some distant voice reminding him of Levi’s distaste for slothful, messy appearances. Neat and orderly are words his Captain lives by and somehow he feels ashamed that he’s shown an untidy, messy side to him. 

“I apologize that you had to see me in such a state.” 

It’s obviously far too late to rectify Levi seeing his unkept appearance but he still means to fix his appearance. 

“Don’t.” The spoon and cups clatter with his abrupt movement. 

His small hand burns around his wrist. (Sometimes he forgets just how much like lighting his Captain moves). He stares in wonder at his small hand, fine boned and pale. His strength is soft but firm, gentle and cool (and yet how can it burn?). He remembers his own hand around that wrist, able to wrap around it completely, in the Underground…. Beneath a dark and open sky. He’s felt Levi’s strength and yet, it surprises him how gently he is with his hands (bloody as they are, guilty of ordering his men to die, to abandon their comrades when the times come and to keep moving forward against what is a hopeless and cruel world). 

Levi retreats his hand and goes back to straightening papers out. Erwin’s hand lingers in the air, he abandons the motion to fix his hair, instead lowers his hand below the desk and flexes it. It’s numb yet tingling, a cool, searing burn, in the shape of small, slender fingers belying the strength to fell beasts. 

“It’s not bad.” 

Erwin looks back up, breath catching, heart unmistakably accelerating at that simple soft, whispered phrase. 

_“It’s not bad.”_

It’s not the last he hears it, there are other instances, He knows, is sure, of the meaning.

But they live in a time of war, of cruelty, of cages, of steaming blood and anguish, terror-filled cries. Their hearts are not their own. Death and duty (and hope) is truly all that they have. 

He does not speak, strange for he is a man of words. He shows through actions. There is always tea in supply, cleaning products, hot water for his bath, a warm blanket beneath the cupboard of his office bookcase, a place reserved after every expedition for his dining partner. For him. 

And Levi, a man of action, accepts each action and gesture with that phrase, full of meaning. “Not bad.” 

. 

. 

Even at the end they don't speak it. They look at each other resigned. It’s time. This is it. 

Death and duty. 

A bell rings in the distance (clangs and falls from it’s tower by stones bullets). They focus on it because it’s the last beautiful (and tragic) sound from the terror or rock, and whinnying horses. 

The bell sound echoes and rings as Erwin confesses his sins. 

The bell sound echoes and rings as Levi kneels before him. 

Death and duty. 

It was never all they had. (And hope) 

_“Levi. Thank you.”_

. 

. 

He wakes up slowly, the echo of some distant regret for a heart he could not give away to someone but to an ideal. 

There’s hand around his wrist. Cool and gentle and burning. So familiar. 

He turns over, Levi’s face peaceful, relaxed deep in his sleep. He brushes dark strands away and leans over to kiss his forehead. 

They found one another. 

He smiles thinking of Levi’s response when he offered to bring him home. 

“That doesn’t sound bad.” 

They touched the other familiarly, regardless of how new it was (in this life and in the old). 

In the darkness, as they lay fatigued, but satisfied (not yet sated, they had two lifetimes to make up for), Levi straddled him and looked long and hard, at him before running his hand through his sweat covered hair. He smiled secretively, mouth curling familiarly at the corners, silver eyes glittering. 

“It’s not bad.” 

And it happened the same as that other life (his breath caught, his heart accelerated). Erwin had no choice, he rolled over and had Levi once more. If Levi could be a man of words, he too could be a man of action in this life. 

He was only sorry that it had been Levi that had confessed this time again. 

It’s why he nuzzled into Levi’s neck, breathing his scent in, and whispered. 

“I love you.” 

“Idiot.” 

He was grinning at him, face dusted pale pink. 

Running his hand through his messy blonde hair, and curling one leg over Erwin, Levi kissed his collarbone and worked his way up to his ear, undulating his naked hips on Erwin bare stomach. 

“I still beat you to it old man.” 

Erwin hums finding his hand around Levi’s ankle and tracing a path up on the inside of his leg, up his thigh. “I suppose you did. Perhaps I should rectify that.” 

“Hmmm.” Levi’s tongue wets his chapped lips (they’ve kissed too much) his voice is thick when he says. “Perhaps you should.” 

Erwin fits between his pale legs just as easily as before. 

It took a second life for them to utter “I love you” but they confessed long ago. Through actions and Levi’s unique “It's not bad.” 

. 

. 

. 


	2. Lingerie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lace and lingerie - model AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something short and quick.

. 

. 

. 

He doesn't mean to startle when the large hand pulls him closer, the distance nonexistent between his lace clad torso and the series of interconnected leather harness clinging like a second skin to the others. 

“I don't bite you know.” 

He can't help his heart accelerating and with both practically naked, there’s no doubt _he_ to, can feel it. His glittering eyes say as much. 

“Not if you don't want me too…” and he fights off a shiver, his breath warm and sensitive so near his skin. Any closer and _he’d_ be kissing his lace clad torso. 

_Fuck!_

Not to be undone, he buries his hands in tousled blonde hair, it's softer than he thought, and pulls just enough to be a warning. _Don't mess with me asshole._

Except then there’s a hand crawling tentatively up his spine and he can't help but arch under it, letting out a sigh and then a groan when he feels _that_ part of himself brush against a hard plane of muscled abs. 

“That’s so sexy. Hold it!” 

Their voice shocked him, he’d forgotten where they were and what they were doing? 

“Levi your ass looks amazing!” 

“Shut up!” he grits out. He’s embarrassed now and wonders if he’ll say anything about that particular comment. He doesn’t and Levi can’t tell whether he feels disappointed or annoyed

“Wrap your legs around my waist.” He hears near his ear instead. 

And he does, in fact he’s internally mortified at how quickly and efficiently he follows that directive, that the large hand supporting his lacy ass as they get up from the emerald green chaise. He wonders if he imagines the unnecessary squeeze on lace clad ass? They end up by the mirror, his back arching, leg squeezing tighter around that waist, when his back makes contact with the cold surface of the mirror. 

“Cold?” 

“No.” 

And it's not a complete lie. The way they’re positioned now is too damn close, too damn provocative, liquid heat pulling in places it shouldn’t. But that's good, makes it easier to get in the right headspace. He takes his own hands and rakes them up down that smooth back and smirks when the other reacts to his freezing hands. 

“Are you cold?” he whisper teasingly, splaying his hand flat on his shoulder blades. He doesn’t receive an answer, rather his right hand is seized and then inspected before it’s being brought up to full lips, to be kissed. 

It’s such an unexpected gesture that all noise fades and can barely hear it in the background. It’s just them. Two strangers meeting for the very first time. 

Their gazes are caught in each other; clear silver, intense blue. He’s not really aware of how close they are now, noses touching - he could each individual pale gold lash tickling the smooth plane of his reddened cheek. Both his hands are held in larger one, spread eagle against the mirror and until they are slowly being held above his head. Their faces are inches apart and their breathing is deep and ragged. There’s a point where Levi wets his lips and he can't help feeling satisfied when his blue eyes follow the movement. 

“Tease.” 

He feels the breath of that one word, cool on his wet lips and damn it but if Erwin Smith isn’t anything like he'd thought he’d be at all. 

Freaking, Calvin Klein and Ralph Lauren poster boy, as well as Polo and an assortment of other campaigns. Most of which have had him pawing or being pawed by women wearing very little, if not naked (he’s remembering the campaign for some Ladies fragrance where Smiths had cupped one of the models bare breasts). Levi had seen him, scowled at how unfairly tall the Blonde fucker was, and lamented that he was probably as straight as an arrow before promptly deciding that he _hated_ that new blonde CK underwear model. 

Now, though he’s not sure what to think…

They move along with the photoshoot, there are several changes all racy, lace, silk, harnesses and things of that sort. Their poses nearly all provocative, both kneeling, arched backs, fists full of hair, large hands gripping his waist or his ankle or thing, his knee; straddling Erwin on chair, on the floor. 

But there are others. Poses. Ones far more intimate. Them staring at each other, Erwin’s cheek resting on his shoulder, laying on top of Erwin, his eyes closed, as Erwin's hand (always so warm and gentle) cradles the back of his head; turning his head, his very body, this way and that and Levi following like some amateur when he's been in the business just as long. 

It’s at the end that he notices that Smith had pretty much led him in nearly all the captured poses. Hange is going on about how many great shots they’ve got and Moblit the art director, and Nifa, the stylist are readily agreeing with them. Levi has to agree. 

When he’d first heard of what Hange had planned for this Legion photoshoot he’d thought it sounded like porn but seeing the images was different. Sure they were racy, provocative but tasteful nothing that could be considered distasteful or porn-esque. In some he was shocked at how gentle, how at peace, his expressions showed. He was often criticised for his cold attitude and pinched look and yet there he was looking-- 

“Damn Levi,” Hange whistled, “You look besotted.” 

And he had nothing to say because the image was right in front of him. But… he wasn't the only one… 

“Excuse me,” Erwin's polite voice interrupted him from his thoughts. “I’m sorry I can't stay but I have to catch a flight. Hange it was a pleasure and I hope everything turned out great.” 

And Hange was quick to assure them that everything turned out perfect! 

“I’m glad,” and he turned to Levi. He had changed and was wearing a black turtleneck and a tartan coat and tailored trousers. His hair was still, somewhat, in a disarray after Levi’s many runs with his fingers. He was actually quite satisfied that he hadn’t brushed his hair out and when one lose strand fell across his eyes, Levi fought the urge to reach up and tuck it away. 

“Mr. Ackerman---” 

“Levi. It’s Levi.” shit he hopes that crack in his voice was only imaginary. 

“Levi,” and Erwin smiles, eyes shining in satisfaction. “I hope this won't be the last time we work or see each other.” 

He’s reaching to shake his hand and then his gone, the scent of cologne lingering in his absence. 

Levi had then quickly retired to his dressing room, his hand, the one that Erwin had grasped in a handshake, burning. He hadn’t believed how fucking smooth Erwin had been. If it weren't for the physical proof Levi would have not believed what Erwin had done so slickly in front of everyone. 

“Fuck.” 

He’s still staring at the paper a week later, as he waits for Erwin to arrive at JFK. He could have thrown that paper away (he’d committed the phone number to memory immediately), but he didn’t. 

“Levi.” 

He runs his thumb over the paper and looks up at Erwin, who appears incredibly handsome despite the long flight. His hair is out of place and Levi has no doubt those golden strands are the same from their photoshoot. 

He grins at him, brow relaxing as he utters a casual, “Hey.” 

It doesn’t take long for them to get to their cab and thankfully both were quick and discreet enough to avoid the paparazzi and tabloids who've been in a riot ever since Legions photoshoot for their new Scout menswear was released. 

When they reach their hotel, it takes Erwin about 10 minutes to reach for him to kiss him and then much less time for him to realize that Levi is wearing those lace boxer briefs. Levi is only sorry that he hadn’t realized Erwin had gone commando sooner. 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really wish I had the time to draw something for this but nope. I probably wont finish this prompt challenge since I really should be studying for Micro Bio test (its on Mon!) but maybe once Spring Break starts Ill finish the rest. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if I'll do the others - time is so limited for me but I at least wanted to do something for my old men. <3
> 
> Hope you liked it.


End file.
